I mean, he's dancing back and forth between pathetically sad and massively fucking creepy.
If I had a penis I would totaly hang shit off it. Like stretched out peach rings and fruit rollups.
Do you ever just KNOW it's gonna be a good day? I mean, like in a "just found a Vicodin in the bottom of your purse" kinda way?
I'm pretty sure I saw a man standing on a table with no shirt on getting sugar thrown at him while "pour some sugar on me" blaring while the cops were in the house.
Yay for living on the edge. I'm trying this new thing where I stop mom-arming people and promote bad decisions. It's working quite well.
Apparently, the right response to, "How do you feel about a terrorist being in the area?" isn't, "Well, we have vodka in the freezer, so we're good for now."
I'm treating this like a real date. My boobs aren't even out.
I'm so proud, I have tears
I just sugar scrubbed my vagina. If I don't get laid tonight, me and the universe are gonna have some problems.
Also, my old intern Lizzie whom you fed pizza to last night wants to hang out with you
He thought I was gay. I had to explain I just really like wearing flannel.
I walked in and saw her crying and singing to her dog
He asked me how flexible I was and all I could think about was that time I threw my back out putting in a tampon.
This guy knew what he was doing. Most guys can't find the spot even if it shot off a flare and played a kazoo.
I'm fucking camped out by the bathrooms. I think the poopatrator is in there. Wtf is my life
Almost an end to the saga.
Not sure what you smoked, but you put raw bacon on the lazy Susan and spent 45 minutes looking at it and mumbling Meat Spin
Randomize
